


Roses in December

by skidmo



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:10:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skidmo/pseuds/skidmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ianto thinks he should remember, but Lorne can’t tell him why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roses in December

**Author's Note:**

> Torchwood/SGA crossover, future-fic set sometime post series 1 Torchwood and post season 4 SGA (slight AU as of SGA ep "Doppelganger"). Title is from a quote by J.M. Barrie - "God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December." Thanks to misslucyjane for the beta.

It isn’t like waking up from a nightmare—sweating, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through his veins, still in shock from being ripped so suddenly from sleep. It’s more like waking up on a lazy Saturday morning. Consciousness sets in slowly, creeping in at the edges until the dream finally slips away and he finds himself alone in his bed, the only evidence of his dream the damp patch on his pillow.

He’d thought, after three months, that he wouldn’t have these dreams nearly every night, but they haven’t stopped. He knows he should talk to Heightmeyer. If one of his men had come to him with the same problem, he’d have sent them off to her without a second thought. He’d probably have ordered them to see her.

Instead, he does what he always does. He pulls on a pair of sweats, a t-shirt and his sneakers and takes off through the dimly lit corridors, trying to outrun the memories.

The clang of his shoes on the metal walkway seems to echo loudly in the silence of the Lantean night. It’s become a comforting sound. It used to be jarring, but now, it means he’s alone with his thoughts. It’s pointless to think he can run far enough that he won’t be haunted with memories, but he still tries. Sometimes, when he pushes himself hard enough, he can force himself to focus only on the burning in his lungs and the tingling in his legs. And when he stops, he can let the endorphins rush through him. And then it’s only the good memories that fill his thoughts. Only the rush of pleasure, the laughter, the joking, the high of being with someone who knew him completely, understood him, loved him.

But as his sweat cools and his lungs stop gasping for air, the other one creeps in. The one he wishes he could forget. The one he has to hold onto so tightly because he knows that if he lets it go, this will all be his fault. It will be the wrong choice, and he’ll never forgive himself.

***

 _They were laying on Ianto’s bed, trying not to think of Lorne’s plane, leaving in a few hours. Lorne’s bag was propped against the wall by the front door next to his shoes. It had become a ritual, on the last day of his leave, for Lorne to ask the question._

 _He brushed imaginary hairs off Ianto’s forehead and whispered, “Come back with me.”_

 _As always, Ianto closed his eyes and sighed. “I can’t.”_

 _Lorne nodded then rolled onto his back. Staring up at the ceiling he said, “I have to ask you something. I don’t want to, but I need to.”_

 _He felt Ianto’s hand curl around his. “Ask me anything you need,_ cariadfab _.”_

 _Lorne closed his eyes. If he looked at Ianto, he wouldn’t be able to do this. “If Jack asked you to leave me, would you?”_

 _Ianto pulled his hand away and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed so he was sitting with his back to Lorne. “I don’t...I....” He took a deep breath. “No. I wouldn’t.” The words were firm. A decision rather than a declaration._

 _Lorne nodded, and moved to sit behind Ianto, close but not touching him. “Just one more question. If he offered you...everything I’m offering you—a home, a life together—if he said he loved you, would you leave me?”_

 _Ianto opened his mouth to respond, but Lorne broke in. “Don’t tell me that he doesn’t love you or that he wouldn’t offer you that. This isn’t about what he would do. It’s about what you would do.”_

 _Ianto drew a shuddering breath. “I don’t know.”_

 _Lorne moved closer, wrapping his arms around Ianto from behind, pressing himself up against Ianto’s back. He placed a soft kiss on Ianto’s neck, sighed and got off the bed. When he got to the doorway, he looked back at Ianto for a second then turned away and said, “This is my last visit to Cardiff.”_

 _He didn’t turn back when he heard Ianto stand. “Because the next time you come you’ll be staying?” Even with his back turned, Lorne could tell Ianto didn’t really think that might be the reason._

 _“Because I can’t do this anymore.”_

 _He turned then. Time to do what was needed. Time to face his problem like a man, like an officer._

 _“Did you want me to say no? Pretend I did. Pretend I said no.” It would have been easy, so easy to give in at this point. Say yes, that’s what I wanted. They could have gone on indefinitely like this._

 _“No. I don’t want that. I don’t want you to lie to me so we can stay together. But I can’t live with that. I can’t live with maybe.” He wanted to reach out to Ianto, to pull him close and say that he didn’t mean it. That he could wait. That someday they’d find a way to work this out. Instead he clenched his hands into fists at his sides and said, “Do you know what it’s like?”_

 _Ianto’s eyes were wet, and Lorne was fighting back his own tears._

 _“Do you have any idea what it’s like? To know that no matter how much I love you, no matter how much I’d give up for you, it will never be enough?_ I _will never be enough.”_

 _He turned then and walked to the front door. Ianto watched him from the hallway as he put on his shoes and his coat and slung his bag over his shoulder. “All things considered, I think it’s best if I get a cab to the airport.”_

 _He opened the door and stopped just inside the frame. With his back to Ianto, he lowered his head and said, “Goodbye,” before walking out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him._

***

There is nothing to mark this day as particularly special. Ianto gets out of bed, showers, shaves, makes coffee, has breakfast. He brushes his teeth and chooses his dark blue suit with a plain white shirt, red tie. He whistles a little as he ties his wingtips and hums to himself as he gathers up his briefcase and keys and heads out the door.

Traffic is light and he gets into work about fifteen minutes early. Jennifer is already at the reception desk and he greets her cheerfully with a smile and a wave. She asks him if he’d like a coffee, and he says, “Yes thank you, that would be lovely.” He hasn’t the heart to tell her that she makes some of the worst coffee he’s ever tasted. She’s always so eager to make him some. He almost thinks she might be flirting with him, if people can flirt with coffee. He’d probably ask her on a date, but he has a strict policy against dating co-workers. He has no personal experience with it, but he’s sure it can never turn out well.

When he gets to his desk, he sets down his briefcase and checks his email. There’s a message from Charlie asking if he’s finished putting together the report for the Davidson case and one from Gina wanting to know how he’s coming on the archiving project. He’s in the middle of letting Gina know that he thinks they’ll need more space when his phone rings.

“Ianto Jones.”

“Ianto, it’s Jennifer. There are some people here to see you.”

Ianto sighs. He’s sure they’ve had this conversation before. “Jennifer, you know I don’t see anyone without an appointment. See if you can schedule them for tomorrow and ask them to come back.”

“I know you don’t normally see people, and I wouldn’t even bother you usually. Only they say it’s important, and they’re with the military.”

His brow furrows. “The military? What branch?”

“The United States Air Force.”

He glances at his watch. He’s got half an hour before he needs to meet with Charlie, and it will take him at least fifteen minutes to get his notes together.

“All right, I’ve got a few minutes. Send them in, please.”

A few seconds later two men stand in his doorway. The man in front holds out his hand for Ianto to shake. “Mr. Jones? I’m Major Paul Davis. This is Dr. Jason Keene. We’re with the U.S. Air Force, and we were wondering if we might have a minute of your time.”

Ianto shakes both their hands and motions for them to take a seat in the chairs opposite him. “I’m afraid I can’t offer you more than about ten minutes, Major.”

Davis nods. “This shouldn’t take that long.” He nods to his colleague who stands and closes the door. “Mr. Jones, what do you know about Atlantis?”

***

There are days when Lorne thinks the universe is just having a big laugh at his expense. He’s waiting at the pier with Sheppard, McKay and Carter to welcome a set of new personnel. They’re getting three lieutenants and a corporal coming in from the SGC and a sergeant being transferred from the Antarctic base. On the civilian side, they’ve got two new botanists, a xenobiologist, a linguist/cultural anthropologist and an archivist.

The linguists, anthropologists and even, to a lesser extent, the engineers have been asking for an archivist for years now, and the IOA finally worked one into the budget. Zelenka’s been buzzing about it all week.

To Lorne, it feels like a slap in the face. He can practically see the Ancients up there laughing their asses off at him.

Okay, so they probably don’t have asses to laugh off, but still, there’s definite taunting going on from the powers that be.

They’re beamed down in a large group and even without the uniforms it would be obvious which ones are civilians and which are military. The Marines take a second to get a feel for the room they’re in before settling their gazes on Lorne and Sheppard, the obvious officers. The civilians all look around in awe, staring blatantly at the stained glass windows and Ancient consoles.

Normally, Lorne wouldn’t take any notice of the civilians. He’s friendly enough with the science staff when he needs to be, but unless they’re on his team or working in the infirmary, he’s probably not going to be spending any time with them. But one of them catches his eye. At first it’s only because the tall, young man doesn’t seem to have the same sense of awe the other civilians do. He gives a cursory glance about the room and then focuses his attention on Col. Carter. Lorne thinks he must either be a transfer from the SGC or a remarkably good poker player. Lorne can’t quite see the man’s face until he turns toward Lorne and gives him a nervous smile.

He thinks his heart stops for a moment, and he’s fairly certain all the color has drained from his face. He feels faint and nauseated, and he barely notices when Sheppard puts a hand on his shoulder. “You okay, Major?”

Lorne swallows and nods mutely.

“You sure? ‘Cause you don’t really need to be here for this. I can take care of the introductions on my own. Maybe you oughta go to the infirmary and let Keller check you out.”

He closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head. When he opens his eyes again, he looks over at the young man. He’s no longer looking at Lorne, and Lorne forces himself to school his face into a casual mask.

“I’m fine, sir. Really. You know I like to meet the new guys right away.”

“Okay...just let me know if you’re not feeling so hot, Major.” Sheppard gives him a stern look that’s still laced with concern. “That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.”

When the formal welcome is over, the scientists follow McKay and the Marines go with Lorne and Sheppard. Lorne glances over his shoulder as he leaves the room and sees the young man trailing along behind the other civilians. He pulls his gaze away from them and concentrates on making sure all his Marines make it to the training room without getting into any trouble. He’s on duty now. Time enough to worry about other things when his shift ends.

***

It’s overwhelming at first. It had taken quite some time for Ianto to agree to take the position. He’s still not sure how the IOA got his name. Major Davis had said that he’d come with high recommendations from some of their affiliates and that they’d been impressed with some of the work he’d done just after leaving Cambridge, but Ianto thought it highly unlikely that a secret government organization like the Stargate Program would recruit someone based on a project they’d worked on six years ago, and he had no idea who could possibly have recommended him for something like this. It was a month after Major Davis had come to see him that he’d agreed to sign the non-disclosure agreement and three more weeks before he’d accepted the position.

And now he finds himself trailing along behind one of the world’s foremost astrophysicists through a hallway in the lost city of Atlantis. On another planet. In another galaxy.

It’s a lot to take in, but somehow, he doesn’t feel all that out of place. It’s almost as if he’s been through all this before.

Dr. McKay points out the cafeteria and the gyms on the way to the labs. As they round the corner into the control room, even Ianto can’t keep himself from gasping. He’d seen the stargate at the SGC, but this...this is breathtaking. The sun is setting, and the light from it streams in through the stained glass window behind the gate. It makes Ianto wish he were a painter.

McKay allows them barely a moment to take it all in. “It’s quite something, isn’t it?” he asks smugly when he sees the look on Ianto’s face.

He gives McKay a quiet smile. “It is indeed.”

The other civilians are dropped off in their respective departments to be briefed by their department heads until finally Ianto is the only one still following McKay down the brown and blue hallways. They stop outside one of the doors and McKay waves his hand in front of the panel to open it. He gestures for Ianto to step inside, and Ianto finds himself in a room stacked floor to ceiling with boxes, most of which are unlabeled, several of which are also overflowing, scattering papers and folders and what Ianto assumes are various pieces of alien technology over the floor.

“This is where you’ll start...er...Ian, wasn’t it?”

“Ianto.”

“Right. Yani.”

Ianto is about to correct him, but McKay holds his hand up to cut him off. He’s silent for a moment, looking at the floor, and then he heaves a melodramatic sigh and says, “Fine. I’ll be right there.”

It takes Ianto a moment to realize that McKay must be talking to someone on his radio.

“I have to go clean up after some idiots in engineering. You’ll be okay here for a bit, right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll send Zelenka by later to show you to your quarters.”

He walks quickly to the door and exits, popping his head back in a few seconds later. “Oh, hey. Welcome to Atlantis.”

And then Ianto is alone.

***

The way they’d gotten together was both wholly unremarkable and the stuff of romantic comedies. Lorne was taking a week’s leave before shipping out to Atlantis, and he’d decided to spend it in Cardiff. He had several reasons for this. For one, he’d never been to Wales before. For another, he always took his leave as far away as possible from anyone who might ever be stationed with him, and the UK was pretty damn far away. As for his particular choice of city, he figured Cardiff would be a little bit more obscure than London. Fewer ex-pats. Fewer potentially world-class scientists who might someday find themselves recruited to the Stargate Program.

Most of his vacations were to places a little more...tropical than Cardiff, so he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself while he was there. He booked himself into a fancy hotel and did the obligatory sightseeing bus tour, scoping out places to paint. His second day there, he set up an easel by the carousel at Cardiff Bay. It was a fairly uneventful day, except for the time when four clearly insane people had come running through Roald Dahl Plas waving guns and led by a man wearing a coat that would have made General O’Neill cringe with all its billowing ostentation. A few minutes later, a tall young man in a black suit had come running through as well, carrying a large, purple box. He ran out to the street and handed the box to someone in a black SUV before turning and walking back the way he had come. Lorne watched him go, and the young man looked up at him for a moment and gave him a polite smile.

The next day, he took his paints to Bute Park early in the morning. He was hoping to get a good view of the castle, but he couldn’t find one he particularly liked. Instead, he set up by the Taff, very much enjoying the figure of Millennium Stadium towering over the park. He’d only been painting for a few minutes when he heard someone running down the path he was sitting by. Looking up, Lorne saw that it was the young man from the day before. As he passed, the man gave Lorne an amused smile and a little wave. Lorne smiled back.

After dinner that night, Lorne decided to go out. Cardiff was a beautiful city during the day. He wanted to see if she sparkled at night.

And, of course, there was the little matter that he was about to ship out to another galaxy where his prospects for company were extremely limited and subject to the prejudices of the USAF. He felt a little foolish as he googled “gay club Cardiff,” but the woman working reception that night was old enough to be his grandmother, and he really didn’t want to have that conversation with her. He found the address of a likely looking place, and called down to the front desk to have them call him a cab.

Half an hour later, he found himself sidled up to the bar in a dark room full of attractive, young men gyrating to some extremely loud techno-pop. As the barkeeper passed him a glass of bourbon, he heard a voice in his ear.

“If I were a paranoid man, I’d say you were stalking me.”

Lorne looked over his shoulder to see the man from that morning smiling nervously at him. He smiled back and leaned in close to be heard over the thumping music. “I’ve been in Cardiff for all of three days. I think I’d make an unusually inexpert stalker.”  
The man laughed and said, “You seem to be doing just fine.”

Lorne could feel the man’s breath on his ear, and he leaned in a little closer. “Name’s Evan.”

“Ianto.”

When Lorne was looking for a relationship, he tended to take things slow. At the very least, he’d buy someone a drink and have a dance. But he wasn’t looking for a relationship. He was on leave.

“Wanna get out of here, Ianto?”

Ianto smiled. “You’ve just bought your overpriced, watered-down whiskey.”

Lorne looked at his glass, swirled it around a bit and tossed it back. “Any other objections?”

When Ianto smiled this time, there was a hint of desperation in his eyes, and Lorne thought that they probably both needed this. A way to let out a building frustration before it exploded into something unmanageable.

In answer to his question, Ianto grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the exit.

There was a slight hold up at the door, and they got caught in the crowd. Lorne found himself pressed up against Ianto’s back. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Ianto grinned somewhat manically back at him. “Your place or mine?”

The surging crowd spit them out onto the street, and Lorne grabbed Ianto’s hips and pulled the younger man in close, kissing him hard. “Whichever’s closer.”

***

It’s several hours before anyone else comes by to check on Ianto. In that time, he familiarizes himself with the artifacts he’s meant to be archiving. He almost thinks he can see a system to it, though the only labels he’s been able to find so far have said things like, “Extremely Dangerous: Do Not Activate,” and, “Keep Away From Sheppard At All Costs.”

He’s just beginning to wonder if he could find his way back to the cafeteria on his own when a friendly, frazzle-haired head pops into the room.

“Ah, good. You are still here.” A compact, slender frame follows the head. “Rodney said he left the new archivist to get a feel for the archives. He forgot to mention he had promised I would show you to your quarters.”

Ianto blinks at the man and opens his mouth to speak before he is cut off. “Sorry. I should have introduced myself.” The man holds out his hand and Ianto shakes it. “Radek Zelenka. I am head of the engineering department, and Dr. McKay’s preferred minion for torturing.”

Ianto laughs a little, not entirely sure it’s a joke after what he’s seen of McKay. “Ianto Jones. I’m the....” He trails off, realizing that of course Radek knows he’s the archivist. He’s just said as much.

Radek doesn’t seem to notice though. “I know I am supposed to take you to your quarters, but would you mind terribly if we stopped by the mess hall first?”

“Not at all,” Ianto says following him out of the room.

“Good. It is meatloaf night, and if we do not get there in time, the Marines will eat all the mashed potatoes, and we will be left with only the _kubara_.”

“Kubara?”

“It is a root vegetable that the Athosians grow. It is similar to a potato only in size and texture. It is also purple and rather sweet.”

Ianto wrinkles his nose at the thought.

“Yes. Exactly,” Radek says.

When they reach the cafeteria, Radek takes Ianto quickly through the line, pointing out actual foods from Earth as well as Pegasus galaxy substitutions and telling him which ones are worth trying and which he should avoid. After filling their trays, Radek takes a moment to scan the room for a place to sit.

“Ah, there he is.”

Ianto looks over at where Radek is pointing. One of the officers he’d seen on the pier is sitting alone at a table in the corner. Ianto thinks it’s the one he smiled at.

Radek leads them over to the table and sets his tray down. “I was hoping you would still be here, Major.” Turning to Ianto, he asks, “Have you met Major Lorne yet, Ianto?”

Ianto sets his tray down across from Radek. “I don’t believe I have, no. I’m Ianto Jones, the new archivist,” he says, holding out his hand for the major to shake.

Lorne stares at him for a moment, looking confused. He cautiously takes Ianto’s hand and gives it a perfunctory shake, dropping it quickly as though it burned. “Evan Lorne,” he mumbles, then stands and turns to Zelenka. “Sorry to disappoint you, Doc, but I was just leaving.”

“But you have not finished your dinner, Major,” Radek protests, gesturing at Lorne’s half-full tray.

“No time. I’m late for a meeting with Sheppard.”

Radek frowns at him, but Ianto smiles and says, “Well, it was good to meet you, Major. Even if it was only for a moment.”

Lorne looks at him with what Ianto can only describe as exasperation. “Yeah...right.”

As he leaves, Radek says, “I cannot imagine what has gotten into him. He is normally very friendly, especially to new personnel.”

“He looked a little peaky when I saw him earlier,” Ianto says. “Perhaps he’s just feeling a bit under the weather.”

Radek watches Lorne as he goes through the door. “Perhaps,” he says thoughtfully.

***

It wasn’t the best sex of Lorne’s life, but it was probably in the top five. It was raw and fast and messy, which was actually sort of typical for Lorne on leave, but for the first time when the other guy asked him to stay, he did.

Maybe it was because he knew he was leaving the planet for a very long time and he was craving the human contact. Maybe it was because he thought Ianto needed him to stay as much as he needed to stay. Whatever the reason, when Ianto curled himself around Lorne and murmured, “Stay?” into his neck, Lorne just smiled and kissed his hair and said, “Okay.”

And in the morning, after more insanely athletic sex, when Ianto said that he had to go to work but that if Lorne didn’t have any plans for the day he was welcome to just hang around Ianto’s flat until he got back, Lorne was very tempted to stay again. And when Ianto added, “Or, if you did have plans, that’s fine too. Maybe we could meet up for dinner or something else. Not that you don’t probably have better things to do on your holiday, but...,” Lorne couldn’t think of any better way to stop him rambling than to kiss him, so he did.

And when Ianto got home that evening, Lorne was sprawled out on his couch, reading his copy of _The Cat Who Walked Through Walls_. Lorne smiled at him, and Ianto smiled back and asked, “How long are you in Cardiff?”

“Just ‘til Friday.”

“Okay.” Lorne thought Ianto looked a little disappointed. “Did you have any plans?”

Lorne smirked at him. “Well, if you don’t have any objections, I thought I’d spend my days painting somewhere and my nights fucking you into the mattress.”

Ianto grinned. “Sounds good to me.”

Lorne stood and pulled Ianto to him and kissed him. It wasn’t like their other kisses. It was slow and almost tender, and when Lorne pulled back, Ianto sighed and leaned against him, and Lorne felt obligated to say, “I’m shipping out when my leave is over.”

Ianto closed his eyes and ran his nose along Lorne’s cheek. “To where?”

“I can’t say, but it’s far.” He slid an arm around Ianto’s waist and held him close, taking Ianto’s hand in his and swaying slowly, dancing without music. “I...I don’t know when I’ll be back. It will probably be a long time.”

“How long?”

Ianto was burying his face in Lorne’s neck and Lorne found it hard to think. “I don’t know. Months...maybe years.” He stopped moving and looked at Ianto. “What I’m trying to say is...I can’t offer you anything more than this week.”

Ianto nodded slowly and cupped Lorne’s face. “I understand. I...I can’t offer you anything more than that either.” Then he kissed Lorne, and they didn’t talk about it for the rest of the week.

***

Lorne makes it all the way back to his quarters before he lets himself give into the urge to punch a wall. It’s every bit as bad an idea as he thought it would be, and he cringes as the pain shoots through his fingers. His knuckles are bleeding but he doesn’t go to the infirmary. He doesn’t want to answer Keller’s questions, and he really doesn’t want to end up with an appointment to see Heightmeyer.

Either Ianto is an utter bastard and he was just really good at hiding it, or he’s been retconned and he honestly doesn’t remember Lorne. Lorne isn’t sure which he’d prefer at this point.

The only thing he knows for sure is that Ianto has left Torchwood, voluntarily or not, and that just twists the knife in the wound he thought was beginning to heal. If Ianto chose to leave Torchwood, why couldn’t he have done it all those months ago? Why could he not do it for Lorne if he could do it for some other reason?

Lorne laughs bitterly to himself. He’s just been starting to think he might be getting over the dreams, and now...now he’s living in them. A run isn’t going to help him this time, so he taps his radio once. “Ronon, this is Lorne. You free to spar?”

***

It doesn’t take Ianto long to get acclimated to life in Atlantis. Apart from being in another galaxy, it’s like any other project he’s worked on. The scope is a bit larger and the previous organizational system is, well, non-existent, but the people are friendly, and Ianto finds himself welcomed into a new community in no time.

Radek is a useful ally, as Ianto discovers. Nothing happens in the city without the Czech knowing about it, and he passes much of his knowledge and expertise on to Ianto. Ianto joins the chess club and even gets in on the bi-weekly engineering poker game. Radek bent the rules for him, saying, “You have no department of your own, so I have adopted you into mine. You are now an honorary engineer. It is not all poker games and access to the common pool of alcohol and chocolate though. We may call on you from time to time to push the engineering projects up a little higher on your schedule than they may originally have been placed, yes?”

He knows that somewhere out there in this strange galaxy there are monsters called the Wraith who are big and scary and he should probably be terrified of them, but Atlantis seems so safe that it’s hard to remember sometimes. But he sees the eyes of some of the people who have been there since the beginning, or nearly the beginning, and he wonders if someday he will have that barely contained wariness, if his muscles will be wound tight under his skin, if he will look as though he is only waiting for provocation to attack. Even Radek, friendly and open as he is, has shadows behind his smiling eyes.

People are, for the most part, friendly, and Ianto is welcomed eagerly by nearly everyone. But Major Lorne never seems to warm up to him. Radek is perplexed by this, and clearly upset. He promises Ianto that it isn’t like Lorne to be so formal around someone, and Ianto can see that Radek is sacrificing time he would normally be spending with the major to make sure Ianto is at home. After about a month, Ianto calls him on it.

“Really, Radek, I know you’re concerned about me fitting in, but you can’t give up what is clearly an important friendship for me. I won’t allow it. Perhaps you should have lunch with the major tomorrow. Dr. Esposito has asked me to join her, so you needn’t worry that I’ll lock myself in my quarters and brood until you come to visit again.”

Radek smiles and says, “Dr. Esposito? You are a very lucky man, my friend. I know of at least a dozen men who have been trying to get her to have lunch with them for the past year. You do not waste any time, do you?”

Ianto blushes. “It isn’t like that. She wants me to help her with some translations.”

“Oh, yes, I see. And you are undoubtedly a better choice to help with translations than, say, one of the _linguists_ employed here. Yes, this makes perfect sense.”

Ianto takes the teasing with grace, but when he thinks of Radek having lunch with the major he feels a spike of jealousy that he can’t seem to shake off. It makes no sense. Radek is allowed to have other friends, and Ianto would never begrudge him time with them, even with someone who seems to have taken such a strong dislike to Ianto. He puzzles over it for a long while, but he can’t come up with any answers.

Perhaps he should make an effort to befriend the major. It would certainly make things easier.

***

It had taken Lorne a long time to decide whether to accept the posting to Atlantis. One of the main reasons he hadn’t gone with the original expedition had been that he still had family on Earth. In the end, though, with the possibility of relatively easy, if long, travel between Earth and Atlantis, he’d decided that it was his duty, to his country and to his planet, to go. He had the gene after all, and he had three years experience with the program. They needed people who were familiar with off-world travel. He’d said goodbye to his mom before going to Cardiff. It had been difficult, not being able to tell her where he was going or why or when he’d be back, and he was glad he had no one else he was leaving behind.

So why had he allowed himself to spend a whole week with someone before shipping out?

At first, he told himself it was just about the sex. Which was, to be quite frank, fantastic, but he couldn’t lie to himself for long. Ianto was…well, he was exactly what Lorne would have looked for in a boyfriend, if he’d ever thought about actually having a boyfriend. He was funny and sarcastic with a dry wit to match Lorne’s own. He was also polite and thoughtful and endearingly geeky and adorably modest.

When Lorne asked, two days in, if he could draw Ianto, Ianto blushed quite nicely and ducked his head and asked, “Why?”

“Because you’re beautiful, and I could make a beautiful sketch of you.”

“Oh,” was all Ianto answered, though his blush deepened. “Okay.”

He always accepted compliments this way, with a skeptical embarrassment. Lorne wondered if a week was long enough to convince someone they were amazing. He doubted it and felt slightly envious of whoever would eventually have that privilege with Ianto.

He didn’t realize he was staring at Ianto until he felt a soft press of lips against his. Ianto always resorted to kissing Lorne when Lorne looked at him too long. (It made Lorne pause for a moment when he realized that two days was only just barely enough time to be making statements that began with “always”.) All it really accomplished was making Lorne want to stare more often.

Lorne kissed him back for a moment before pulling away and asking, “Would you mind being nude?”

From the way Ianto’s face flushed scarlet, Lorne figured Ianto would refuse. Instead, he nodded mutely and began to unbutton his shirt.

“Wait,” Lorne said.

Ianto paused with just the top two buttons undone.

“Let me?”

Ianto nodded again, and Lorne knew his face was flushing for entirely different reasons this time. He slowly undid the next few buttons, wanting to see how far down Ianto’s chest the pinkness had spread. He leaned in and kissed the base of Ianto’s throat, smiling when he heard Ianto give a soft sigh. He finished with the last button and slid the shirt off Ianto’s shoulders, leaning up slightly to kiss Ianto as his hands deftly unbuckled Ianto’s belt and made quick work of the button and zipper on his pants. He deepened the kiss and slid his hands around Ianto’s waist and into the back of his pants. He’d had a fascination with Ianto’s ass since the very beginning. There wasn’t much to it, but it curved just enough to pique his interest. As he flicked his tongue against the roof of Ianto’s mouth, he was already picturing what his sketch would look like, how he would ask Ianto to pose to best show off that beautiful ass.

When Ianto arched his hips towards Lorne, Lorne pushed his pants and boxers down his thighs and brushed his fingers across Ianto’s rapidly hardening cock before dropping to his knees. He smiled wickedly up at Ianto and then bent down to help Ianto out of his shoes and socks and slid the pants and boxers the rest of the way off.

Standing slowly, he pulled Ianto to him for one more kiss then whispered, “Lay on the bed,” and stepped back.

Ianto swallowed and made his way slowly over to the bed. He lay down on his side and looked at Lorne with wide eyes. “Like this?”

“No. Lay on your stomach.”

Ianto complied and looked back over his shoulder at Lorne. “Like this?”

Lorne smiled. It was perfect. “Yeah, like that. Just…rest your head on your arm, okay? That’s it…that’s perfect.”

He wasn’t sure how it had happened—though he had his suspicions—but somehow Ianto had gone from obviously embarrassed at the thought of being drawn at all, to being completely relaxed, laid out naked and slightly flushed, watching Lorne through half-closed eyelids as he picked up his sketchbook and began to draw.

He talked as he sketched, keeping his voice low, telling Ianto how beautiful he looked, how perfect he was. He wanted to be as quick as possible, partly because he didn’t want Ianto to tense up again, and partly because Ianto looked so damn sexy that all he wanted to do was crawl on top of him and fuck him until they were both exhausted, but there were so many he details he wanted to capture just perfectly, from the curve of his ass to the tiny, new, red scar at his throat.

About half-way through the sketch, Lorne had an idea for another, and since he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get Ianto to agree to this again, he decided he’d have to do it that night.

He began to change the tone of his stream of compliments. He still kept his voice low, but the timbre became gruffer as he told Ianto how hot he was, how perfect his ass looked, and exactly what he wanted to do to that ass. Ianto’s eyelids drooped, but Lorne could tell that his eyes had darkened. He wiggled restlessly, and Lorne quickly finished the sketch he was working on and flipped to another page.

“Turn over,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Ianto rolled onto his back and Lorne set his book down and walked over to him. He didn’t speak at all as he propped a few pillows against the headboard and motioned for Ianto to sit against them. He gently arranged Ianto’s legs so that one knee was in the air and the other leg was bent and lying on the bed.

Moving back to his book, he looked Ianto in the eyes and said, “Touch yourself.”

Ianto’s eyes widened and Lorne could hear his breath hitching. But he slowly moved his hand down to his dick and began to stroke it.

“Slowly,” Lorne warned. “I don’t want you to finish before I do,” he added with a smirk.

Ianto’s hand slowed and he kept up a steady, smooth rhythm as Lorne feverishly sketched him. His pencil flew over the page. He needed to get this down as soon as possible. His concentration was waning, and he found it extremely difficult to focus on his drawing with Ianto sitting there, jerking off, watching him with wide, dark eyes. Lorne’s hand stilled as he watched a drop of sweat drip from Ianto’s neck to his chest and down his belly. He shook his head to clear it and hurried through the rest of the sketch. It wouldn’t be one of his best, but he had a feeling it would be one of his favorites.

When he finally finished, he sat for a moment watching Ianto. Ianto was still stroking himself slowly, but his hand was shaking. Lorne took pity on him. “You can speed up now.”

Ianto’s head fell back against the pillows and he jacked himself hard and fast while Lorne watched. He could see that Ianto was close, and he quickly stripped off his shirt and pants so that by the time Ianto came, spilling over his hand onto his stomach, Lorne was naked.

Lorne crossed the room to the bed and crawled on top of Ianto, kissing him hard and fumbling in the drawer of the bedside table for the lube and a condom. Pulling away, he handed the lube to Ianto.

“Open yourself up for me.” His voice was husky and deep and brimming with more emotion than he was comfortable feeling for a man he’d known for only two days.

There wasn’t time to think about it though, as Ianto squeezed some lube onto his fingers and worked them inside himself, keeping his eyes on Lorne’s the entire time.

Lorne groaned and tore open the condom wrapper, rolling it quickly onto his cock. He stroked himself slowly, watching Ianto stretch himself, quickly working his way up to three fingers and then pulling them out and whispering, “I’m ready. Fuck me.”

Lorne held himself over Ianto and kissed him gently as he eased his cock inside. When he was all the way in, Ianto wrapped his legs around Lorne’s waist and deepened the kiss.

Moaning into Ianto’s mouth, Lorne began to thrust. When he’d been sketching Ianto, he’d wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside Ianto and fuck him fast and rough, but the pace he set now was unhurried. He rocked his hips slowly and kissed Ianto, his lips, his neck, his chin, anywhere Lorne’s lips could reach.

Ianto moaned and buried his fingers in Lorne’s hair, whimpering softly, and Lorne reached between them to wrap his hand around Ianto’s cock. He didn’t expect to get any sort of reaction this soon, but he felt Ianto’s dick swelling in his hand as he matched the rhythm of his hand to that of his hips.

It could have been hours that they stayed like that, making love slowly—something Lorne had never done with a man before, something he’d never allowed himself to do—and when he finally came, it was almost a surprise. It crept up on him and spilled over almost before he’d realized what was happening.

He lay for a long moment, on top of Ianto, just kissing him and nuzzling his face. When he eventually rolled off, he gathered Ianto up in his arms and held him close.

Neither of them said anything as they lay there, but Lorne felt like they’d had an entire conversation in those last few moments before he drifted into sleep.

***

Zelenka corners Lorne in his office the next day.

“Okay, I give up,” he says flopping into the chair opposite Lorne.

Lorne cocks an eyebrow at him. “Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about, or is this one of those times when I just sit patiently and wait for you to make sense?”

Zelenka gives him a hard look. “Why don’t you like him?”

Lorne knows exactly what he’s talking about, but he feigns ignorance. “Why don’t I like who? McKay? I don’t like McKay because he’s a jerk.”

Zelenka rolls his eyes. “What is it about Ianto that you do not like?”

“I like him fine, Doc.”

“Do not lie to me, Evan. You have been avoiding me since Ianto arrived. It is not like you to be so unfriendly.”

“Look, Doc, just trust me when I say there is nothing about him that I don’t like.”

Zelenka leans back in his chair. “How long have we known each other, Major?”

Lorne is somewhat taken aback by his question. “Uh…four years now?”

“There is something you are not telling me.” He leans forward and lowers his voice. “You cannot always keep everything to yourself, my friend.”

Lorne sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Look, it’s complicated, okay. And you probably wouldn’t believe it.”

Zelenka raises an eyebrow at this. “I would not believe it? Have you been to engineering lately? There is a machine there that will turn your skin purple. At the moment it seems to have no other purpose. If I can believe that there is a civilization somewhere in which purple skin is considered attractive, I think I will believe whatever it is you have to tell me. Come,” he says, gesturing to the door. “We’ll get some lunch and you can explain to me what is so complicated it makes you be rude to a very congenial man.”

“You’re not eating with Ianto?”

“No. He has a date with Dr. Esposito.” Zelenka accompanies the name with a knowing waggle of eyebrows.

Lorne just stares at him for a moment. “You know, Doc, I’ve got a lot of paperwork to catch up on. I should really work on that.”

Zelenka sighs. “I think it would be better for you to come with me. The paperwork can wait. You have not been yourself for a long time, Evan. I do not know what is wrong, but I would like very much to help.”

“Nothing you can do to help, Doc.” He sounds weary, like he’s given up.

“That may well be the case, but I think neither of us can make that judgment until you have told me what is bothering you. I am worried for you.”

Sighing quietly, Lorne stands. “Fine. We’ll have lunch, but…not in the mess, okay?” He doesn’t think he’ll be able to eat much if Ianto’s sitting a couple tables away.

***  
Ianto’s lunch with Dr. Esposito is pleasant. She’s very friendly, she smiles prettily and she seems to be interested in his work.

But Ianto’s mind is not on his meal or his companion. He is thinking rather of a man who, by all appearances, despises him.

There’s something disturbingly familiar about Major Lorne. Ianto feels as though they have met before, only briefly, perhaps at a club or a concert. And the few times he’s spoken with the major, he’s left feeling like he’s missing something. Something important. Something he really ought to remember. He’s never felt a connection like this to someone, certainly not to someone he doesn’t even know.

A few days after their first encounter, Ianto began having the strangest dreams. Dreams where he was at a club in Cardiff, talking to a man with the major’s eyes. The details vary, but he always leaves the club with the man, and they kiss on the street corner.

It’s not that Ianto is uncomfortable with his sexuality. It’s just that he’s never really been all that interested in men before. He’d thought about it on an intellectual level, but he’d never had reason to pursue it. Except once. He thinks there was someone else once. Someone who made him think about it beyond the realm of academics. He had blue eyes too, like the major’s, only…deeper, happier and sadder at the same time. Older. And Ianto can’t quite remember his name or how he knew this man.

It’s like a scab at the back of his mind that he just wants to pick at, but he knows if he does it will never heal. The trouble is, he can’t decide if he wants it to or not.

Dr. Esposito tells a joke, and he laughs politely. When they finish their meal, she asks if he’d like to have lunch again tomorrow. He says he’s meant to be having lunch with Dr. Zelenka, and she blushes and asks about dinner…in her quarters. He smiles and says that he’s rather busy, but perhaps some other time? She smiles back and says that would be lovely, but he knows she understands.

He just wishes he did.

***

The happiest week of Lorne’s life had been the week of his high school graduation. He’d finished school and been accepted into the Air Force Academy. He had the whole summer ahead of him, and Jenny Saunders had let him fuck her in the back seat of his Dodge Spirit after her graduation party. For an eighteen-year old kid who was just a little too geeky to be cool, it didn’t get any better.

Comparatively, this was probably only the fourth or fifth happiest week of his life. He was about to ship out on what was probably going to be the most exciting assignment of his career. He had a whole week to do whatever he wanted, and he had a damn sexy Welshman who had somehow agreed to let Lorne fuck him every night of the week.

The sex was better than it had been with Jenny (who never could quite get the hang of giving head without using her teeth), but he had the whole one week time limit thing hanging over his head. Normally that would be a good thing. Keep him from getting attached.

When he stood in Ianto’s front hall on his last day in Wales, he knew that it hadn’t worked. And for all that Ianto had said he only had the week to give too, Lorne could tell it hadn’t worked for him either.

“What time is your flight?”

Lorne checked his ticket, though Ianto had asked him this at least three other times that morning. “Fourteen hundred hours.”

Ianto nodded. “Your cab will be here soon then. Are you sure you don’t want me to give you a ride? It’s no trouble.”

“Thanks, but no. I prefer to take a cab.” Truthfully, Lorne would have rather had Ianto drive him, but he thought it would be easier to say goodbye here, with no audience.

“Okay. Er…do you have your passport?”

Lorne held it up to show him. He wanted very much to kiss Ianto goodbye, but he felt like that would ruin the show they were putting on. “Ianto, I….” He was interrupted by the sound of the cab outside.

“You’d best be going. Don’t want him to leave without you.”

Lorne nodded. He was just going to leave, just walk out the door and be gone. Instead, he pulled Ianto close, holding him tight and kissing him softly. “Will you…god, this sounds cheesy….Will you write me?”

Ianto smiled at him. “Of course. Will you be able to receive mail where you’re going?”

“It will take some time to get to me but, yeah.” Lorne fished in his pocket for a scrap of paper, pulling out the receipt from their dinner the night before. Ianto handed him a pen, and he hastily scratched an address out. As an afterthought, he added his email to the bottom. “We’ll get databursts every week. It might be a couple weeks before you get a response, but I’ll always check my email.”

Ianto smiled at him again, and Lorne heard the cabby honking. “I’ve…”

“Go, Evan.” Ianto kissed him softly. “Just go.”

Lorne shouldered his duffle and headed for the door. He stopped just outside, turning back for one final look.

“Thanks.”

And then he was gone.

***

When they stop by the mess to pick up some food, Lorne tries not to look over to where Ianto is sitting, laughing at something Dr. Esposito is saying. He doesn’t even realize he’s watching them until Zelenka takes something off his tray. “Hey!”

“You do not like the roast beef,” he says, putting the sandwich back and picking up a different one. “It has horseradish, remember?”

“Right. Thanks, Doc.” Ianto isn’t laughing anymore, but he is smiling at her, and Lorne feels his stomach drop.

Zelenka puts a hand on his shoulder and leads him out.

They take their sandwiches out to a deserted balcony on the west side of the central tower, and Zelenka lets him eat in silence for several minutes.

“I do not pretend to know what sort of history you might have with Ianto, Major, but it is clear there is something between you that I do not see.”

Lorne puts his sandwich down and looks out at the ocean. He says nothing for a moment. He’s not sure how he can tell this story. “I…he was….” He clears his throat. “We dated for a while.” He glances over at Zelenka out of the corner of his eye. They’ve never discussed his sexuality before, but he doesn’t think it will be an issue.

Zelenka looks at him warily. “I see,” he says. Then, “No. I do not see. He has never given me any indication that he knows you. He seems honestly perplexed that you do not wish to spend time with him.”

Lorne picks up his sandwich and takes another bite, chewing slowly and swallowing before saying, “That’s probably because he doesn’t remember it.”

Lorne has to admire Zelenka’s calm. He merely raises an eyebrow at this. “When you say that you ‘dated for a while’….”

“I don’t mean that I picked him up in a club once.” He pauses and smiles just a little. “Actually, that’s exactly what happened. But it didn’t end after one night. We were together for…almost three years, I guess. I was never quite sure when what we were doing became a relationship.”

Lorne looks out across the water. “I told you it was complicated.” He takes a swig from his water bottle, wishing it were something stronger. “He had a sort of history with his boss. They were sleeping together. I couldn’t ask him to stop, not when I was so far away most of the time. And Ianto…” he trails off for a moment. “He said Jack didn’t love him and that he didn’t love Jack. But he couldn’t stop. He said it wasn’t like our relationship. He didn’t care about Jack that way.” Lorne snorts out a bitter laugh. “Somehow that never made it easier to know they were fucking every time I left. After a while…it was just too much. I asked him if he’d leave me for Jack if Jack wanted him the way I did, and he said he didn’t know. So I…I left him. I left him and said I wouldn’t be coming back.”

Zelenka looks suitably horrified, but still a little confused. “I don’t understand, Evan. If you were together so long….”

“How could he possibly not remember me?”

“ _Ano_. Yes, exactly.”

Lorne carefully sets down his water and looks down at his hands. “Ianto worked for an organization that was a little bit like the SGC without so much government oversight. They have a…a drug of some sort. Ianto called it Retcon. It makes people forget things. Whole chunks of their lives even. He said if he ever quit, he’d have to take it, so he wouldn’t be able to spill any secrets.”

“And you think he has taken this…ret con?”

Lorne shrugs. “I have no way of knowing. But it’s either that or he’s on some secret mission for them to spy on Atlantis, and I can’t imagine him doing something like that.”

Zelenka laughs. “No. I cannot see him as a spy. He is too…sincere.”

Lorne gives a half smile. “He’s definitely sincere, but he’s also…he hides things very well. I just…I can’t believe he would do that.” He closes his eyes for just a moment. “I don’t want to believe he’d do that.” He doesn’t say ‘to me,’ but he thinks it. “Not even for Jack.”

Zelenka is quiet for a moment. “How long ago?”

“How long ago did I leave him? It’s been six months.”

“Oh,” Zelenka says softly. “Oh, my friend, I am so sorry.”

“Yeah, well…sometimes relationships don’t work out. And then you get on with your life.”

Zelenka shakes his head slowly. “No. No, that is not why I am sorry. I am sorry because it has been six months, and still you love him. This is not a relationship you can let go, my friend. It is not a relationship you _should_ let go.”

Lorne drops his half-eaten sandwich onto the tray. “So what am I supposed to do? Go to him and say, ‘I know you don’t remember me at all, but trust me, I love you, and you love me too. You just don’t remember’? Yeah, I can see that going over real well.”

“I can’t tell you how you should do this. I can only tell you that you should. How did you win him over the first time?”

“I fucked him.”

Zelenka blushes, and Lorne feels bad for being so blunt. “I do not recommend that this time, I think. Perhaps you should start by not avoiding him. He is a little hurt, I think, that you seem to dislike him so much.”

Lorne’s chest constricts at that. “I never wanted to hurt him,” he whispers, remembering the look on Ianto’s face the day he’d left. “I just couldn’t…it hurts too much.”

Zelenka puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently. “I do not think it will be easy, but…there must have been some _reason_ he left his job. Maybe that reason was you.”

***

Several days after Ianto’s lunch with Dr. Esposito, Radek finds him in his office perusing a memo with a raised eyebrow.

“I do not think it will change no matter how hard you stare at it.”

“Hm?” Ianto looks up, brow still furrowed in confusion, then smiles when he sees Radek. “I’m not expecting it to.”

“What is it?” Radek asks, peering over Ianto’s shoulder.

“It’s the mission schedule for next week.”

“I didn’t think they distributed the mission schedule to anyone not going off-world.”

“They don’t,” Ianto says, frowning at the paper.

“But that must mean…” Zelenka trails off.

“I’m scheduled to travel to M9G-382 with Major Lorne’s team on Thursday. They need a translator, and I’m the only one available with any grasp of Ancient.”

“Well,” Radek says, and Ianto can’t help thinking he sounds a bit suspicious, “this will certainly give you a chance to get to know the major better. Perhaps you two will work out whatever the problem is.”

“Yes.” Ianto is less than sure about that.

He’s about to ask Radek what he knows about the planet in question when Major Lorne himself appears in the doorway. It must be his day off as he’s not in uniform, and as happens so often around the major, Ianto finds his eyes drawn to the way Lorne’s shirt hugs his shoulders, like there’s not quite enough room for them.

“Oh! Hey, Doc,” he says, leaning against the doorframe. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I was just about to ask Ianto if he’s ready for lunch yet.”

Lorne nods. “Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to see when Ianto might have a free hour or so to complete his certification.”

Ianto is distracted by his surprise at the perfect way Lorne pronounces his name—it usually takes people a couple tries to get it right—so it’s a moment before he asks, “Certification?”

“All civilians have to be certified before they can be taken off-world.”

“Right. Of course.”

“So,” Lorne says, dragging the word out and raising his eyebrows, “you free tomorrow afternoon?”

Ianto quickly flips through his appointment book, though he knows he’s free. “Yes. Is three o’clock all right?”

Lorne grins, and Ianto’s stomach gives a curious flip. “It’s a date.”

He’s on his way out the door, when Ianto finds himself calling after him. “Major?”

Lorne stops in his tracks and spins on his heel. “Yeah?”

“Would you care to join us for lunch?”

There’s that grin again, and Ianto wishes it didn’t affect him the way it does, but at the same time, he doesn’t want it to stop. “Sorry, I’m meeting Cadman, but thanks. Maybe next time.”

“Next time,” Ianto mutters as the major disappears around the corner. When he turns back to Radek, the Czech has a peculiar smile on his face that he refuses to explain.

***

For the first year, Ianto wrote him faithfully every week. Supply runs only came about once every other month, so Lorne would get a nice thick stack of letters in every run. No one ever asked him why he always disappeared for a few hours immediately after the Daedelus docked. Ianto was very careful. The letters were always innocent, full of daily happenings or stories about Ianto’s co-workers, and Lorne tried not to be jealous, especially when Ianto talked about his boss. He seemed to think the sun shone out of Jack’s ass, and for all Lorne knew, it did.

Lorne wrote him back too. One letter for every supply run. His were shorter. Trying to think up unclassified things to tell Ianto was a difficult task. He focused mainly on stories of team nights or the latest engineering pranks. He talked about Zelenka quite a bit. Sheppard too, and Ronon, focusing on people rather than events.

They emailed each other weekly. Every databurst brought a message from Ianto. It became difficult after the first month or so to keep these messages innocuous. Ianto developed an encryption program after the second month, and it wasn’t long before the messages became quite personal. They never tried to deny their attraction to each other, and there were frequent reminiscences of the time Lorne had spent in Cardiff, but it went beyond that. Ianto told Lorne a little more about where he worked, and it became more and more difficult for Lorne to keep his work a secret. They were in the same business after all, protecting Earth from alien threats.

It was a full year before Lorne took any leave—eighteen days on the Daedelus was not a cheerful prospect—but eventually he was called back to the SGC to give a report on Sheppard’s leadership, and use of the gate was authorized. He took two weeks leave when he was finished there. He spent three days with his mom in Tennessee and then flew to Cardiff.

Ianto met him at the airport, and neither of them tried to pretend this was just about Lorne’s time off.

***

Lorne meets him at the shooting range at 1500 precisely. Ianto is in uniform and casually surveys his surroundings before letting his eyes rest on Lorne. The smile that lights up his face when their eyes meet is so familiar that for a moment Lorne forgets that this Ianto is not the Ianto who fell in love with him. Whatever feelings he may have had once have all been erased.

“Shall we get started?” he asks, hoping the routine of the range will keep him from dwelling on his memories.

“Of course,” Ianto says with a hint of his earlier smile.

Lorne walks him through his basic safety and assembling procedures for the Beretta 84 Cheetah, the sidearm civilians carry in the field. Ianto picks it up quickly, and Lorne only has to show him once before he assembles the weapon flawlessly. When they move on to target practice, Ianto proves equally proficient. He’s giddy with excitement when his first round lands six shots cleanly in the center of the target.

They finish with the Beretta, and Lorne is about to ask Ianto to clean it before they move on to the stunners the security teams carry, but before he can say anything, Ianto has cleared the chamber, released the clip and has the gun half disassembled. Ianto looks at him with something like fear in his eyes, and Lorne asks him what’s wrong.

“How did I do that? How did I know to do that?”

Lorne smiles gently, attempting to soothe him. “You’re a natural.”

Ianto shakes his head. “You never said. You never told me to clear the chamber. How do I even know that’s what it’s called? It is, isn’t it? Clearing the chamber?”

Lorne nods. “Maybe you remember from a movie or something.”

“I’ve never held a gun before in my life, but I’m a perfect shot, and I know how to disassemble this weapon. I even know how to clean it.” Lorne watches as he takes the gun apart and cleans it with no prompting. “How am I able to do this?”

Part of Lorne wants to shake Ianto and say _Remember! You had this life. You’ve done this all before. Why can’t you remember?_ but he knows how that would sound, knows how he would react if someone said the same to him.

But he can’t lie to Ianto either. Can’t say that he doesn’t know. So he just takes hold of Ianto’s upper arm and pulls him away from the weapons. “Maybe we should do the rest tomorrow. You’ve had a long day.”

Ianto still looks a little shaken, but he just nods and says, “Yeah. All right. I should…I should go.”

***

Ianto told him about Jack right from the start. Not that first week, when they were still pretending it was nothing more than a quick fling, but after, when Lorne came to visit him, Ianto told him. Lorne wasn’t happy about it, but he understood. How could he ask Ianto to give up whatever he had with Jack for the prospect of weekly emails and one, maybe two visits a year?

And then the Ancients came. It had been six months since Lorne had visited Ianto when they were kicked out of Atlantis. Lorne was floundering. He didn’t know what to do with himself, so he took a huge chunk of his accrued leave and went back to Cardiff.

For six weeks, he lived in Ianto’s flat, sketched and painted the city, looked after Ianto when he wasn’t eating enough, and sat at home worrying when Ianto worked late. And he was happy. He wasn’t content—he missed Atlantis so much it was like a lead weight sitting in his stomach—but he was happy. Every moment he spent with Ianto was perfect, and Ianto loved him. He couldn’t even be jealous of Jack because he knew that Ianto was coming home to him.

When they were called back, Lorne seriously considered resigning. But Atlantis needed him, and he needed Atlantis, and he knew he’d never be happy again if he didn’t go back.

That was the first time he asked Ianto to come back with him. He told Ianto about his city, his alien, floating, flying city in another galaxy. Why he had to go away, and how much Ianto would love it if he would only come back with him.

And Ianto smiled and said that it sounded marvelous, but he just couldn’t leave Torchwood. And Lorne heard him and knew that he meant that he couldn’t leave Jack, but how could he blame Ianto for that? At least Jack was a person. Lorne couldn’t give up a city for Ianto.

It was the hardest goodbye Lorne had ever said, but he knew he couldn’t stay.

***

Ianto dreams again that night. Only this time, it isn’t the man with the major’s eyes. It’s the other man. He’s at the shooting range, and the man with the deep, old, blue eyes is teaching him how to assemble a Beretta. The man presses up against Ianto’s back as he helps Ianto place his shots on the target, and Ianto knows you aren’t supposed to be able to smell in dreams, but he can smell this man. There are words spoken, but Ianto can’t make out anything beyond “clearing the chamber.”

When he wakes up, he remembers the dream like something that actually happened, and he can’t shake the feeling that he really knows that man. Jacob maybe? Or Joshua? James? He’s still thinking about it when he goes to meet the major to finish his certification.

He has no unexplained knowledge this time. They’re working with alien weaponry, and Ianto finds that his aim is off today. He can’t get a feel for the recoil. Lorne smiles at him, and Ianto’s stomach does that strange flip again, the one that is starting to become familiar.

And then Lorne is standing behind him, showing him how to hold the stunner, how to sight it, and Ianto doesn’t even realize he’s leaning back against him until Lorne clears his throat.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and pulls back away. He could almost swear the major sighs when he does.

It doesn’t take long for Ianto to become certified, and as they leave he finds himself unwilling to part company. “Major?”

“Hm?”

“Would you…would you care to join me for dinner?”

Ianto is faced with Lorne’s grin again, and he wonders why he feels such a strange sensation of being home. “Sure thing, Ianto.”

Lorne turns to head towards the mess hall and Ianto thinks _I would follow him anywhere_ , but he has no idea why.

***

Dinner is awkward on Lorne’s part. He keeps forgetting that Ianto doesn’t know he’s told Lorne all these stories already. He forgets himself once.

“I studied literature at Cambridge,” Ianto says after he makes a relatively obscure reference to a Romanian poet.

Lorne nods. “Fitzwilliam College, right?”

Ianto gives him a skeptical look. “Er…yes. How did you know?”

Lorne shrugs. “I think it’s…in your file.” He hadn’t meant to let that slip, but Ianto had some interesting stories about Cambridge, and most of them had centered around Fitzwilliam.

Ianto arches an eyebrow at him. “I…wasn’t aware personnel files were available to anyone other than someone’s supervisor.”

Lorne tries to backtrack, but he knows Ianto isn’t stupid, so it’s unlikely he’ll get out of this. So he gives Ianto one of his most charming smiles. “Well…technically that’s right, but I have,” he leans forward and waggles his eyebrows, “connections. And I was curious. It’s not every day we get a good looking Welsh guy joining the ranks.”

Ianto blushes, and Lorne feels somewhat gratified that even Jack couldn’t get Ianto used to taking compliments until he remembers that whatever Jack may have gotten him used to, Ianto has forgotten it all.

“Are you allowed to flirt with me, Major?” And Ianto’s got that smile that just turns up one corner of his mouth, and Lorne has missed that smile but not as much as he misses kissing it.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.”

It shouldn’t be this easy, slipping back into flirting with this man who broke his heart and whose heart Lorne thinks he might also have broken, but it is.

Ianto must notice it too because he stares at Lorne for a long moment and says, “God, I feel like I’ve known you for ages.”

“I know the feeling.” Lorne doesn’t realize he’s staring too until Ianto leans across the table as though he’s going to kiss Lorne.

Ianto doesn’t seem to realize it either until he’s only a couple inches from Lorne’s face. He sits back suddenly. “I’m so sorry, Major,” he stammers, blushing furiously. “I should…I’m sorry, I should go.” He stands and picks up his tray.

Lorne stands too and reaches out to grab his arm, pulling back at the last second. “Don’t go.” He thinks he must sound pretty desperate, but this is the most comfortable he’s been since Ianto came to Atlantis, and he doesn’t want to lose that. “It’s fine, really. Sit down and finish your dinner.”

Ianto’s blush hasn’t gone away, but he sits back down and begins to nervously pick at his food.

Lorne smiles gently across the table. “So, tell me about Fitzwilliam.”

***

Once the gatebridge was finished, Lorne’s trips to Cardiff became much easier to wrangle, and he and Ianto saw each other just about every other month. He thought things were going pretty well, apart from the space of two galaxies that separated them every time he left. And every time he went back, he asked Ianto to come with him.

Their second year together, Lorne managed to make it back to Earth for Christmas. His mom had wanted him with her, and part of Lorne felt guilty for not staying with her, but Ianto invited him to spend it with his family.

Of course, in the middle of Christmas dinner, Ianto got called into work. He dropped Lorne off at his flat on the way in, and he was gone until the next afternoon. When he got back, he was exhausted, and his suit was torn, and he collapsed immediately on the couch. Lorne helped him out of his suit and cleaned his wounds despite Ianto’s vehement protestations that he was fine. When Ianto had showered and dressed in clean pajamas, Lorne ordered them some takeout, and they cuddled on the couch watching daytime television.

“This is nice,” Ianto murmured, curling himself around Lorne.

“Mmhm.”

“’Susually Jack who cleans me up, but I wanted to see you.”

Lorne knew Ianto was falling asleep and that he should have been happy that Ianto wanted to be with him instead of Jack, but he couldn’t stop the niggling jealousy that Jack was the one who usually took care of Ianto, and he couldn’t stop the niggling guilt that Jack wouldn’t have to take care of Ianto if he weren’t so far away.

That was the first time he really meant it when he asked Ianto to come back with him, and it was the first time it really hurt when Ianto said no.

***

Ianto’s first off-world mission is a cakewalk. It’s summer on M9G-382, and the abandoned Ancient outpost they find has a plethora of texts for Ianto to translate. The planet is uninhabited, so there’s no danger of the infamous harvest festivals Ianto has heard so much about.

He’s having more fun than he’s had in quite some time. Gate travel still amazes him. Instantaneous transport between two planets. He understands enough of the physics to be a little frightened, but not enough to refuse to go.

Halfway through the day, they break for lunch. Lorne sits with him and surprises Ianto by pulling out a thermos of coffee.

“Oh, god,” Ianto moans when he tastes it. “I didn’t even know you could get quality coffee out here.”

Lorne grins at him. “This is from my private stash.”

Ianto is still thinking of a response when he hears a sound he knows will haunt him for the rest of his life—a high-pitched shriek that chills his blood and sends adrenaline zinging through him. Lorne immediately raises a hand to his ear, and grabs Ianto’s arm. “This is Lorne, we’ve got darts incoming. I repeat, we’ve got darts incoming.” He drags Ianto back into the outpost, and pushes him into a corner as he contacts the rest of the team.

Once he’s gotten their positions, he goes to check on Ianto. “Are you okay?”

Ianto nods. “It’s the Wraith, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It looks like a flyby. Ramirez doesn’t think he was seen and neither does Cadman. We should be able to just sit it out here and head for the gate as soon as they’re gone.”

Ianto leans back against the wall and stares straight ahead. He knows he should be frightened, terrified even. There are aliens out there who want to suck his life out through his chest, but Ianto knows, though he can’t explain it, that he is safe with Lorne. So he allows himself to be ordered about, and he follows where Lorne leads, and they make it safely back to Atlantis, and he can’t remember ever being as certain that he could trust someone as he is that he can trust Lorne.

***

Lorne is furious with himself when they get back to the city. He should never have taken Ianto with him. He thought it would be a good way to spend time with him, a try at starting over. But it’s too dangerous. This is Atlantis, not Cardiff. There’s no time for romance.

Ianto has a few bruises from Lorne’s rough handling, but otherwise he’s fine. Lorne stays in the infirmary until Ianto is given the all clear. He’s going to head straight back to his quarters, but Ianto catches up to him in the hallway.

“Walk me to my quarters?” And there’s that smile again. Lorne doesn’t think it’s possible for him to say no when Ianto’s smiling at him like that.

“Sure,” he answers, wearily.

They walk in silence, and when they get to Ianto’s quarters, Ianto invites him in, and he’s smiling like that again, and Lorne forgets again for a minute that this isn’t the Ianto who fell in love with him, so he goes in.

He’s about to ask Ianto if he needs anything, but before he can do more than open his mouth, Ianto has him pressed up against the wall and he’s kissing Lorne, hard and desperate, and it’s so familiar and so good and so _right_ that Lorne can’t stop himself from returning the kiss. And Ianto’s hands slide under his shirt just like they had that first night when Ianto was still learning how to touch him, and Lorne moans into the kiss until Ianto scrapes his nails over the small of his back and Lorne remembers that that was something Ianto had learned from him, something this Ianto shouldn’t know.

He pulls back, and Ianto looks at him, confused. “I can’t,” he whispers, even as his fingers trace the familiar planes of Ianto’s face.

“Please,” Ianto whispers back. He slides his hand, that familiar, perfect hand, down Lorne’s chest and lower to cup the bulge in his BDUs, and Lorne leans into the touch. “I want you.”

He hadn’t known it could hurt so much to be wanted.

“I know,” he says and reluctantly pulls Ianto’s hand away. “I just…I can’t. Not like this.”

“How then?” Ianto’s question is almost a whine.

“I don’t know. Just…not like this.” Maybe he’s been spoiled. Maybe he’s fooling himself into thinking he can only be with Ianto when it’s perfect. All he knows is this isn’t right. It’s like seducing him under false pretenses. He steps away from Ianto and leaves the room, wondering if he’ll ever get this thing right.

***

Lorne decided to surprise Ianto on his birthday. He got leave without telling Ianto, and he bought his ticket to Cardiff. He wasn’t sure where Ianto would be, so he stopped by the flat first. Ianto had given him a key four trips ago. Ianto wasn’t there, so he decided to try the tourist office. He’d been there before, so he knew where it was and how to get in touch with Ianto if he wasn’t in the office. He just hoped Ianto wouldn’t see him on the CCTV before he had a chance to surprise him.

As it turned out, he needn’t have worried. When he walked into the tourist office, he discovered he wasn’t the only one who’d wanted to give Ianto a birthday treat. Ianto was backed up against the counter, being thoroughly snogged—and thoroughly enjoying it, by the looks of things—by Jack.

They didn’t notice him at all, so he quietly backed out of the office and went back to the flat. It would be just as big a surprise a few hours later.

***

Ianto is well and truly confused. He can’t believe he was reading the signals wrong. Lorne wanted him, he knows this. The evidence had been right in front of him. He just isn’t sure what’s holding the major back.

He’s been puzzling over this since he got back from M9G-382 four days ago, and he’s no closer to an answer. On top of all that, his dreams are getting even stranger. The man with the major’s eyes is there every night, and if he didn’t think it was crazy, Ianto would say that he was falling in love with him. But the other man, he shows up occasionally too, and somehow Ianto knows that he can’t have them both, that there’s a choice to be made, but he doesn’t know what it is. And all this thinking isn’t solving anything, so he tries to take his mind off it any way he can.

He sits at his computer to write an email to his mother. It’s long overdue, and he’s sure she’s worried sick about him. But when he opens his email account, a message pops up. It’s from an I. Jones, and it’s encrypted.

Without even thinking about it, Ianto types in the password he didn’t realize he knew and opens the message. “Look in your Dickens,” it says, and it’s signed Ifan. He always used to sign notes to himself with his given name when he was in Cambridge. Somehow he felt it made the fact that he wrote notes to himself a little less odd.

He’s only brought one Dickens book with him, and he’s not even sure why he packed it. It’s not one of his favorites. But there, in the middle of his battered copy of _Martin Chuzzlewit_ is a piece of paper. He unfolds it and finds that it is a handwritten note. It reads:

Ianto,

I wanted...no, I needed to tell you that I love you. I didn’t say it before I left, but I need you to know that. I don’t want you ever to think that this is because I don’t love you. I think that I’ll probably always love you.

You’re probably pretty mad at me right now, and I don’t blame you. I’m mad at me too. I don’t expect you to understand. Not yet anyway, though I hope you will someday. And I want you to know that if you ever need me—really need me, I mean, not just want me—I’ll be here for you. Just let me know. I will always be here if you need me.

-Evan

Underneath the signature is a note in his own handwriting that says, “This is why.” But the bulk of the message is written in a script he knows very well after over a month of sorting through mission reports and requisition forms.

He takes the note and makes his way to Major Lorne’s quarters.

The door opens to reveal a sleepy looking Lorne in his boxers with his hair standing on end. “Ianto? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“It was my favorite blend,” he says, pushing past him into the room with no preamble.

“What?”

“The coffee that you gave me on the planet. It was my favorite blend.”

“Oh. Was it?”

“That’s not in my file.”

“No. It’s not.”

“And that’s not the only thing.” He begins to pace slowly, his mind coming up with all sorts of examples. “You knew I was at Fitzwilliam. You weren’t surprised that I was an excellent shot. You even seemed to expect me to know how to clean the gun.” He rounds on Lorne and puts his hands on his hips as he looks at him accusingly. “You look at me like you know things about me I don’t know myself.”

Lorne clears his throat. “I…I don’t know what you mean.”

“No? Maybe this will help clear things up.” Ianto shoves the note towards Lorne, and he takes it gingerly, reading it slowly.

“Where did you get this?”

“It was in one of my books.”

“What does this mean, ‘This is why’?”

“Damned if I know. You’re the answer man.” Ianto drops heavily onto Lorne’s bed and stares at the floor. “Ever since I got here, I’ve had this feeling like…like I’m trying to remember something, something important, but I don’t know what it is. And you. You’re always there, in the back of my mind. I feel like I know you, but that’s not all it is. You’re in my dreams.” He pauses and looks up at Lorne. “I do know you, don’t I? We’ve met before.”

Lorne looks at him then with a pained expression, as though he’s not quite sure what answer to give. “Yes,” he finally whispers. “We have.”

“And we…we were together. We were in love.”

Lorne just nods.

“I don’t remember,” Ianto says, shaking his head. “Sometimes I think I do, but it’s only flashes.” Something clicks in his mind, and he says, “I did this to myself. I made myself forget, but I don’t know why.”

Lorne is watching him warily, and Ianto stands and moves over to him. “I said before that I wanted you, but it’s more than that. I’m drawn to you. I can’t break myself away. At first, when you didn’t seem to like me, I…I was hurt. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I was hurt. But you…you stayed away because you loved me, didn’t you?”

Lorne nods again. “It hurt to see you without touching you.”

“And now, with this,” he holds up the note. “You left me. I don’t know why, but I know it hurt more than I can say. More than anything. I remember that.”

Lorne reaches up to touch his face. “Let me make it up to you? I can. I can make you remember, or I can make you forget.”

Ianto turns away. “I know. I don’t know how or why, but I know you can. God, why you? Why only you?”

Lorne presses himself against Ianto’s back. “Because I know,” he says, pressing his lips to the base of Ianto’s skull, “how you like to be kissed.” He snakes his hands around Ianto’s waist. “And I know,” he slides his hands up Ianto’s stomach, under his shirt, “how you like to be touched.” He pulls Ianto back tight against him. “And I know,” he growls low in Ianto’s ear, rubbing his groin gently against Ianto’s ass, “how you like to be fucked.”

And Ianto can feel himself melting into Lorne’s arms, and he knows without doubt that this is right. He’s already decided he would follow this man anywhere, so when Lorne leads him over to the bed, he goes willingly.

Lorne strips away Ianto’s clothes as though he is peeling away the pain, the confusion, the fear of the last few days, and Ianto lets him. Lorne’s hands on his skin seem to pull out the memories or polish away the dirt that’s keeping them hidden, and when Lorne’s lips touch his, he remembers their first kiss, hard and desperate on that street corner.

When Lorne’s hand wraps around his cock, he remembers a dozen quick blowjobs against the wall in his flat. When Lorne’s fingers press inside him, he remembers their first night together and how desperately he needed Lorne to stay, how badly he wanted to forget everything else.

And when Lorne finally, _finally_ pushes inside him, he remembers the night he realized that, as crazy as it was, he loved this man, as they slowly made love after Lorne had drawn him.

It’s like that again tonight. Lorne is gentle, slow and tender, and Ianto falls in love with him all over again. And when he comes, instead of Lorne’s name, the words that fall from his lips are, “I remember.”

They lay like that, tangled together on Lorne’s tiny bed, for what feels like hours as Ianto tells him how he’d set the entire thing up before he left Torchwood. He’d contacted the IOA, had Tosh forward recommendations and explained Torchwood’s security protocols before allowing himself to be retconned. The very last thing he’d done was to leave himself an emailed reminder of why he’d done what he had.

Lorne is silent throughout the explanation, and when Ianto is finished, he asks, “Why did you do it? Why did you go through all that for me?”

Ianto smiles and brushes Lorne’s hair away from his forehead. “Because I needed you.”

Lorne smiles back and wraps himself around Ianto while they fall asleep.

***

Lorne is late getting back from his next mission, and Ianto spends so much time pacing around the control room, that Col. Carter threatens to have Dr. Keller sedate him. He agrees to wait in his quarters only after she promises to contact him as soon as there’s word. He falls asleep on his couch, though, so he doesn’t hear his radio beeping when Chuck calls to tell him that Lorne’s team is back.

Lorne stumbles into the room about an hour later. His uniform is ripped and his face is slightly bruised. Ianto jumps up from the couch and helps him out of his clothes, leading him to the bathroom and attempting to clean him off with a damp cloth until Lorne complains that he’s well enough to shower.

Ianto lets him go, but he lays out a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt and runs to the mess to pick up some dinner for them both. When he returns, Lorne is just getting out of the shower, and Ianto helps him over to the couch, wincing every time Lorne does. They eat slowly, watching whatever shared videos are available on the network.

When he finishes his dinner, Lorne lays down with his head in Ianto’s lap, and Ianto cards his fingers softly through Lorne’s hair.

“We’ve done this before,” Lorne says. “Only it was the other way around.”

Ianto smiles softly. “I remember.”

 _fin_


End file.
